


Nothing Like a Romance Novel

by dharmageek



Category: Discworld, Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Chapter 3 Adult Content, Chapters 1 and 2 are suitable for teens and up, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Honeymoon, Loss of Virginity, Married Couple, Married Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-12 01:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7915735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dharmageek/pseuds/dharmageek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She looked at the pictures again, in the silence of the house. Then she blew her nose loudly and went off to do the packing and other sensible things." The Fifth Elephant</p>
<p>A look at the first few days of the Vimes marriage from the points of view of Sybil and Sam Vimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. As Far from a Fairy Tale Wedding as You Can Get

**Author's Note:**

> Acknowledgements: 
> 
> Discworld, it's inhabitants, and historical events belong to Terry Pratchett. 
> 
> The premise of filling in the Ramkin/Vimes Wedding is not a new one. It has been done multiple times and probably better in some cases. Thank you to those writers for putting your version(s) out there.

Sybil stared down at the ring on her hand as Sam snored on the other side of the huge bed. It was copper, dented, and a size too big. More importantly, it didn’t belong to her. It was on loan from Sam’s best man, Fred Colon. Once Sam realized that he had lost her ring, Fred had been chivalrous enough to lend it. _What had he said?_ She thought to herself. _Something borrowed._

She looked over at her sleeping husband. _Was this a mistake? It seemed like the gods had thrown up quite a few red flags in the past week. Hells, these were flashing signs illuminated in Octarine._ He had gotten drunk at the dinner party. He had been absolutely devastated by his retirement. They had had a fight over her handing over the Ramkin estate and fortune to him. _Gods. He was just so pigheaded sometimes._ Of course, he wasn’t the only one upset about the arrangement. _I don’t know who was worse this week Sam or Havelock._ She had found out about a betrothal agreement that had been arranged by her father between Havelock and herself a week after the engagement was announced. As a result, she had done her best to avoid the Patrician and therefore, a confrontation. It seemed to be working until Havelock decided he wanted to discuss her gift to Sam the day before the wedding. Sybil groaned and placed her head in her hands. _Now I am going to have to tell him he was right. Maybe I could commission a sampler. ALWAYS RIGHT. Havelock Vetinari Putting the Prat in Patrician since the Year of the Hyena._

That morning she thought the worse was behind them. Willikins said Sam seemed happier that morning, everything was moving forward with the wedding as planned. She arrived early at the university, where she was dutifully corseted, painted, curled and dressed like a meringue. She looked like a layer cake but the overall effect was at least radiant.

Then she heard screaming. Archchancellor Mustrum Ridcully had briskly walked in and told them all to stay put, Havelock had been shot at and Sam and Carrot had gone after the would-be assassin. The wedding party had tried to keep the fact that Havelock had been injured from her. After diverting the attention of her maid of honor and bridesmaids, she was able to get the truth from Mustrum. Havelock had been shot and they were tending him outside the Great Hall.

Against the urging of her wedding party, she left the waiting room and went out to the Great Hall to do what she could for her closest friend. _Bloody good thing too._ Her years of caring for swamp dragons and being trained to care for a husband returning from battle had given her enough skills to at least be helpful. With the guidance of one of less terrified attending surgeons, they were able to save the leg. The same couldn’t be said for her wedding dress but that was a small consideration.

After Havelock had been stabilized, she had Mustrum announce to the guests that due to events the wedding was being slightly delayed and the reception had been moved forward. To say this went over well, especially with the wizards, would be an understatement. She had never heard such a cheer at a simple announcement.

She stayed with Havelock until Drumknott arrived with a new carriage and squadron of guards. The minute he was semi-conscious the other nobles descended upon him and began questioning his ability to continue as patrician. They might be her “friends” but they were blighters, the lot of them. Her heart went out to Havelock and the little anger she still had dissipated.

And then it happened, she didn’t know who she surprised more Havelock or herself, she propped him up and they chatted cheerfully as if being shot at a wedding was a normal occurrence. Wounded and weak, Havelock held court in the entrance to the Great Hall as if it was any other day and she made it happen. When a noble would approach, she would invite them over and merrily chat at them. Havelock would nod and give them short answers acting as if he were more put off by the disruption in his conversation with her than having been shot. By the time the carriage arrived, most of the nobles had made their way to the reception after seeing that there wouldn’t be any carrion for them to feast upon.

On her way back to the waiting room, she promised herself she wouldn’t wait more than two hours. If he wasn’t back in two hours, she would call off the wedding or at the very least postpone it.

In the waiting room, she changed into the spare dress. It was white and sufficient in the general area of looking like a meringue but made her look more expansive than radiant. Sybil pulled herself out of her thoughts and looked around her…their bedroom. She started to feel tears forming in her eyes. _Pull yourself together girl._ She got up, poured herself a glass of brandy and went back to analyzing the day’s events.

The first hour of waiting was filled with reassurances that he would be there soon. She was told how beautiful she looked and that she was ever so lucky to be marrying such a brave man. He had saved her from a dragon and not many brides could claim that.

After an hour, even among her wedding party, it was whispers of poor Sybil. Nothing was said to her, but for some reason, even her close friends tended to forget she was there. “Poor Sybil can’t even keep a man when she gives him half the city.” “What did she expect the man is clearly beneath her and drunk to boot.” “I knew he was a gold digger.” “What does she expect when she is so independent?” And then the listing off of everyone she should have married began, if it wasn’t such bad timing she would have laughed. Everyone from Edward de Worde, who married when she was 14, to Ronald Rust, who had complimented her once by asking “Why hadn’t she settled down and started breeding yet? After all, she had such good bloodlines."  When it looked like they were going to start asking her similar questions, she politely requested the room to herself.

Once the room was empty, she contemplated doing a runner. If she called it off, she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle living in Ankh-Morpork, the society of her class was barely endurable before the dragon and she didn’t want to go back into hiding. She liked being out in the world, it was exhausting but it was being alive. _Maybe I could start over in another city?_ Before Sam proposed, she had started making plans to move to Ramkin Hall or Genua, Aunt Bobbie was always good at putting these affairs of the heart into perspective. _Maybe Genua would be a good choice?_

After two hours in the waiting room, she hovered in the wings of the Great Hall for another 15 minutes trying to work up the nerve to tell Mustrum that the wedding had been called off. It had been over three hours since he left but she just couldn’t do it for some reason, she kept hoping he would walk through the doors to the Great Hall but as the minutes passed that seemed less and less likely.

Sybil finally walked up to the Archchancellor. Forcing a smile, she asked. “Mustrum, may I have a word?”

She did her best not to grimace when he looked at her with eyes full of pity. “Oh, Lady Sybil, any news?” He said as nonchalantly as possible.

“Mustrum, I believe under the circumstances.” Her voice cracked but she continued on. “Under the circumstances, it is safe to say that…”

The doors at the far end of the hall opened and revealed Sam looking slightly bedraggled but clean with Fred and Nobby running after him. He sprinted to the platform. “Sorry, I’m late. I ….” he stopped and stared at her. He gave her a sheepish smile that made her heart melt.

Mustrum coughed and gave her a glance that screamed _You’ve got to be kidding._ “You were saying, Lady Ramkin?” He said guiding her attention back to him.

She glanced at him and went back to staring at Sam.“Yes?” 

She paused in her recollections to remember how she had felt when he walked through those doors. _I was so happy he was safe._ _I just wanted to wrap my arms around him and never let go. I couldn’t stop smiling. Blast it! Why did I have to be so bloody soppy? I could have been practical. I could have said ‘Sorry, Sam, we decided to scrap the wedding and go straight to the reception.’ Or ‘So glad you decided to join us, Sam, please tell the guests I will send them my forwarding address.’ But no, I just smiled…I smiled like a damn fool and told Mustrum._

“The wedding will be starting in 15 minutes, please let the guests know. If that is alright with the groom.” _Then Sam nodded and smiled broadly at me like I had told him Havelock had dismantled the Thieves and Assassins Guilds._ _This caused the disc to go all pink and fuzzy like candy floss and I just smiled. I don’t even like candy floss, it is horrible for you.  
_

Sybil took a deep breath and tried to remember what happened next.

Sam smiled at her and in a voice like smoke and velvet that made her knees go weak said “I will be waiting for you.”

The Archchancellor frowned at him. “Are you sure? I am pretty sure it is bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.” The Archchancellor said warily.

Sam let out a bark of laughter. “A bit late for that.”

Fifteen minutes later, Mustrum was kind enough to walk her down the aisle. She had to keep herself from laughing as the man complained about the faculty the entire length of the journey. At the top of the aisle, the Dean had asked who gave her away. She didn’t know what came over her but she just jumped in. “No one, I own myself.”

Maybe it was the exhaustion and chaos of the day’s events but Sam, Nobby, and Fred proceeded to laugh hysterically at this point. To Sam’s credit, he did manage to remain upright. He looked at her with pride in his eyes.

The service went forward and the Dean asked for the rings. Sam patted down his pockets and almost let out a string of profanities. The ring Sam had purchased for her had been lost in the melee in Ankh-Morpork’s sewers. Sam whispered something to Fred and the men shared a panicked look. After a quick glance to Mrs. Colon, Fred offered up his wedding band as a temporary solution. Sam leaned forward and whispered that it was only temporary.

Everything else was fairly routine. The vows were standard with a few modifications. At both their insistence “Obey” had been replaced with “Cherish”. At Sam’s insistence, “Love” had been replaced with “Respect”. Sam remembered the vows perfectly and added “Protect” to his list of promises. The kiss was quick and chaste. The way things were going she was surprised he didn’t opt to pat her on the back instead.

She wished she could say that the reception had gone better. By the time, they made it to the reception, which had been underway for hours, almost everyone was either gone or blissfully inebriated.

Sam was in a surly mood from the moment he walked in the door. He glared at the iconographer for every picture. He stared down anyone that came within five feet of them with the exception of Fred and Nobby. And then there was the bar. _Gods, why did I have to follow tradition and have alcohol at the reception?_ _Well there would have been a riot if she hadn’t, but still._ The wedding toast had been traditional champagne and one glass had been the start of many for Sam. By the end of the night, he was slumped in a chair and snoring as she said goodbye and made apologies to their guests.

When the night was over, she helped a very drunk Sam Vimes up to their bedroom. She had been very anxious about her wedding night but a drunken groom just made her angry and hurt. They got into the room and Sam stumbled over to the bed, where he ungracefully flopped and yelped as he landed on his side.

“Are you hurt?” she said as gently as she could under the circumstances.

“Just hit a bit of …pebble…no, stone. Hit a bit of stone when I dove for the flamingo.” He giggled when he said the word flamingo.

“The what?” Confusion washed over her.

“Shh…don’t tell.” He said conspiratorially. “The predatory flamingo of Ankh-Morpork! Mustrum told me all about him.” He was trying not to giggle.

She sighed and pulled him up to a sitting position. “Let me have a look at it.”

“Not to worry, you’ll get a look at it.” He said with a smirk. “We are husband and …. Whatsit..We are married. You can look at it all you want, just axe...axe” He quieted. “Lance-Constable Cuddy had an axe, he was good copper. If only I had...”

Sybil’s resolve crumpled and she started rubbing small circles on his back. “I’m sorry, Sam. Lance-Constable Cuddy was a good dwarf and a good copper.” He nodded and she helped him remove his jacket, vest, and shirt.

She ran her fingers down his side checking for broken ribs. He started giggling again and slapped her hand away. “Please just let me have a look at it.” She said patiently and he snickered. She shook her head, there was blood seeping from the hastily applied and dirty bandage. “Are you trying to get an infection?”

“Yes?” She frowned at him. “No?” Her expression changed to bafflement. “Whatever gets me a cuddle.” And he reached to wrap her in a hug.

She held him for a moment and patted his back. He let out a sad sigh. “Sybil, I am an awful husband.” He said quietly. “I’m a copper, always have been. Don’t know how to do anything else. You deserve better.”

Sybil felt her heart clench. “You’ve just had too much to drink, Sam. You will sober up and it will be better in the morning. We are both new at this.” She moved in front of him and took both of his hands in hers and kissed them. “Now, I really need to redress…”

He gave her a mischievous grin. “No, you need to get undressed.” One of his hands broke free and wrapped around her waist pulling her closer. The other soon joined it encircling her waist.

His hands were making small circles and were moving towards her backside. She had to admit it felt very nice, but now really wasn’t the time. Her distraction allowed him to grab her ass and pull her on to him causing them both to crash into the bed. A combination of their positioning and her height meant that his face was buried in her bosom and he let out a muffled laugh. “You’re a whole lotta woman, Sybil Ramkin.” His hands grabbed her breasts and he pushed his face further into her dress.

Sybil froze and did her best not to panic. She was very aware that she was on top of him and how much she weighed. The practical part of her knew he was just drunk and she should be looking after his injury. The insecure part was in near hysterics. _Was she hurting him? What if he suffocated? What if she crushed him?_

She pulled herself away and stood up. He reached for her again and she quietly said. “Sam, please stop.” His hands dropped to his sides. He looked at her with a confused and slightly hurt expression. “Sit back against the pillows.” He did as she said automatically.

She went to the other room and brought back all the things needed to clean and redress the wound. She cleaned and dressed the wound gently and quietly, trying to ignore how dark his eyes had gotten or the small smiles he had been giving her.

“There, all done. Good as new.” she said as she stood up. “I will just put all this away.” She looked down at her dress, which was spotted with blood. “And get cleaned up.”

“I will be waiting.” He said through a yawn.

Sybil quickly removed her dress and drew a bath. As the water ran, she removed her undergarments, washed her face, and brushed her teeth. The tub was almost ready when she paused before taking off her wig, _had he seen her without it?_ She took the pins out and placed the wig on the stand. Pulling off the cap that helped keep the wig in place, she grimaced at her short hair that was plastered down with sweat.

She turned off the water and went into the changing room. She pulled out a white box with a pretty blue ribbon. Bobbi had sent it as a wedding present along with a card that said _For your Wedding Night. Let yourself have fun._ She opened the box and pulled out the blue and white pinoir set, she had never seen one in her size before. It was silk and consisted of a dark blue robe, a pair of white silk knickers, and a white floor length gown that secured under the bust with a dark blue bow. She took the box into the bathroom and quickly washed in the tub.

She dried off and wrapped a towel around herself. She combed out her short auburn curls. Gathering up her courage, she put the pinoir set on. She glanced at the mirror and did her best not think about how ridiculous she must look.

She went back into the room to find Sam sound asleep and snoring.

That had been over an hour ago. _Gods, how did I get myself into this?_ She asked herself as she sipped the brandy. _Technically, we are not even married. I can still leave. If I start now, I can have it annulled and have everything reverted back by the lawyers by noon tomorrow. I can set him up with a nice life. He will never want for anything. If I ask, Havelock would surely give him his job back and I can be out of the city in two weeks._

Sybil grimaced as a voice in the back of her head mockingly replied. _Yes, but you would still love him._ _You love him so much every time you look at him you get all soppy and you feel like your heart is going to explode._

 _That isn’t true and even it was, he never said he loved me. Havelock said he actually said he didn’t love me. Not to mention, Sam even went so far as to take the word out of our wedding vows. S_ he self-consciously fiddled with her robe. _I’m just comfortable and reliable like a piece of old furniture. Some of us just aren’t lovable._

The voice, which was starting to sound too much like Aunt Bobbi, countered. _You’re a bright girl, you wouldn’t have felt that way if there wasn’t anything there._ _If that is the case, why did you say yes? Why did you continue to spend time with him after so many months of him not showing any interest? Why didn’t you call it off the last time he showed up drunk?  
_

She cursed at herself. _We are both alone and not as young as we used to be. We are just settling. At the end of the day, I am just his plan to keep from dying alone._

 _If you were settling, you would have done so years ago. I can give you a list of names if you like._ The voice parried. _Anyway, those kisses didn’t feel like settling and I know you wanted more. You still want more, otherwise, you wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of putting on a new nightgown, a nightgown that shows off your assets and can be removed very quickly I might add._ _Not to mention how other ‘things’ feel when he’s around. It has been an awfully hot summer for you to have so many “fine points” around him without reason._ _Should we discuss reactions from lower locations?_

 _He doesn’t want more so it doesn’t matter._ She countered.

 _That is a lie. You know basic anatomy. Unless you think he is smuggling a truncheon in his britches._ The voice teased. _Don’t say you didn’t look_. _He was all over you tonight._

 _That doesn’t matter. He’s drunk._ She responded automatically.

 _You’ve seen him drunk, lots of times. Did he ever do this before? And didn’t he stop when you asked? It's not just the alcohol._ The voice countered. _You are just scared, Sybil Ramkin._ It scolded.

Sybil couldn’t counter that. She was scared and had no idea of what to do. She had never been with a man. She knew the mechanics and how they theoretically applied to her but she never really gave them much thought. The few men that had caught her fancy never seemed to be interested.

Worse than that, she didn’t know how to be a wife. Or she did know how to be a wife and was terrified because she wasn’t really good at any of that silliness. She could barely cook unless you defined charcoal as a food group. She didn’t sew or knit. She probably was too old to have children. She hated balls and parties, and loathed being put on display.

She had no idea what to do and she felt like she did back at school, a big lumbering giant in a disc full of delicate and petite frippery and even more delicate and silly women. Women, who could get away with saying things like, “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers." because they looked like a strong breeze could knock them over. Sybil was the definition of sturdy. She had been bred to bear warriors. When entering a room if eyes turned to her, part of her always wanted to put her hands on her hips, stick out her chest and say “Not to worry, I have decided to spare your village.” She was as dainty as a siege engine.

The clock at the teacher’s guild chimed. It was midnight.

Sybil stifled a yawn.

 _This will all look better in the morning._ The voice said.

She walked to the other side of the room and blew out the candles next to Sam. She looked down on his sleeping form and her heart skipped a beat. “Good night, Sam… I love you.” She bent down and kissed his forehead

She walked over to her side of the bed and climbed in. She reached for the covers and realized he had completely wrapped himself up in them. Sybil cursed under her breath, got out of bed and pulled a spare quilt from the dressing room.


	2. Hung Over After the Wedding is Not a Good Look

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the wedding Sam Vimes wakes up in a strange room. Vimes's perspective on the events leading up to waking up in the master bedroom at Scoone Avenue.

Sam Vimes opened his eyes slowly and was blinded by the sun coming in from the window. _Bugger! Where am I?_ He thought as he grabbed a pillow and shielded his eyes from the onslaught of light. _Pillows, well, that is a good sign._ The bed felt like he was up at Scoone Ave but there wasn’t an East-facing window in his room. His bed also wasn’t this big, neither was Sybil’s, he was pretty sure small countries weren’t this big.

He heard snoring coming from beside him. He twisted away from the window and felt pain shoot through his side. _What the hell happened?_

He removed the pillow and let his eyes adjust to the light. He looked over and saw the top of his wedding suit neatly draped over a chair. _Ye Gods, tell me I didn’t forget my wedding night?!_ He moved his legs experimentally and he still had his trousers on. He let out a relieved yet disappointed sigh, _Nothing happened._

He slowly moved to a sitting position and swung his legs over the side of the bed. _Bollocks!_ His head felt like it had been trampled by a herd of elephants _._ He looked down at his side and saw the clean bandage.

It all came rushing back to him. The shots fired at Vetinari, the gonne, Dr. Cruces, Carrot, Angua, Cuddy and the wedding. _Oh gods! The wedding!_ He slapped himself on the forehead and winced. He moved to look behind him and his head throbbed harder with the motion. _Hung over, which means…blast._ He finally saw Sybil on the far side of the bed wrapped in a separate blanket and fast asleep. _What time is it?_ On cue, the teacher’s guild clock rung out 6.

The chimes aggravated the splitting pain in his head. _Headache powder and water._ He thought _. Lots of water and maybe a nice rock to crawl under._

Once he pulled himself out of the bed, it took him a moment to get his bearings. The room was bigger than the first floor of the Treacle Mine Road Watch House. He stumbled through the door closest to his side of the bed and found a dressing room. Looking around it was clearly intended for him, all of his clothes had been moved along with the footlocker with his belongings from the Watch House. The rest was filled with items that Sybil probably thought he needed or had belonged to one of her male ancestors. On the far end of the room was another door, he opened it and saw that it lead to a private bathroom.

He fumbled for a few minutes but found the headache powder and a pitcher of water. One of the luxuries of the Ramkin estate was clean water that you didn’t have to chew. He found a chair in the dressing room and sat as he tried to sort out how bad last night had been.

He remembered up to the toast pretty clearly, not that he particularly wanted to remember most of it. It hadn’t been a bad service, had he been a bolder and more romantic man he would have snogged Sybil in front of everyone when she announced she owned herself. That was his Sybil. She was sensible, reliable, and sturdy. He had never thought of that word a compliment until he met Sybil. With her confidence and stature, it was like she had the strength withstand anything, maybe even him.

He looked down at the ring on his hand and winced. _Fuck, the ring!_ She was wearing Fred’s wedding ring. He scowled at himself. _What else Vimes? What else happened that you are going to have to apologize for?_

There was the reception. It was fine, he supposed. He only liked big parties when he was drinking. He didn’t like the iconographer. He felt iconographs were either intrusive or insincere, not to mention the iconographer had been flirting with Sybil. He wasn’t happy that a parade of drunks were attempting to vie for Sybil’s attention, it was his wedding so they could all just bloody well sod off. It was all enough to make him want to drink, well, more than he normally wanted to drink.

He then remembered the toast. _Damn it!_ _How many glasses had he had? And of what?_ _Think Vimes, what can you remember?_ The toast was long and awkward, but Fred had been in charge of it so he had expected that. The champagne wasn’t half-bad but it made him really want a whiskey. So he decided to escort Fred to the bar to congratulate him on a job well done as Best Man. Fred had hesitated but it was good whiskey, so it didn’t take much convincing. One drink turned into two and then three. Then Fred had scolded him and stomped off saying that it was “No way for him to act around Lady Sybil.”

Sam stayed at the bar. The bartender was good and his glass just kept refilling itself. The next thing he remembered was Sybil waking him up. She managed to get him into the carriage and back to the house. She got him up the stairs and cleaned him up. He then fell asleep, after she had left the room because he had drunkenly molested her. He put his head in his hands and groaned to himself. _I’m surprised she came back to the room._

Vimes went back to the bathroom stripped off the rest of his clothes and washed up. He then ventured into the dressing room to find something to wear. “A family could live in here.” He grumbled as he searched through the drawers lining the room. _A nightshirt? Not bloody likely in this weather._ He opened the next drawer and found it full of handkerchiefs. _Why would I ever need?_ He did a quick count, _three dozen handkerchiefs_.

He noticed a box in the drawer with a blue bow. He opened it to find a silver cigar case. Since he had started smoking cigars, he had wanted one. Sarge had one, well he had found one. He opened it to find it filled with his favorite cigars and an inscription. _To Sam with love, from Your Sybil._ He smiled to himself, _my Sybil_. He then caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror and winced. _Sybil dear, you must be mental._

He went through the remaining drawers and managed to find a pair of clean drawers. He put them on and went to the trunk with his belongings from Pseudopolis Yard. He removed the boots and the ledger where he kept track of the widows and orphans fund. He opened the makeshift book and smiled. _Well Vimes, now that you can afford it, the first order of business is making a sizable donation. I will have to talk to Carrot about that tomorrow morning._ He carefully put the book to the side and knocked on the bottom of the chest.

Growing up in the Shades, you learned fast to never brag about what you had or put it on display. If people knew what you had, you didn’t have it for very long. He removed a panel revealing a false bottom. He pulled out an iconograph of his mum, his grandfather’s razor, his father’s penknife, several full packets of cigars that he had to hide from Nobby, some drawings and letters from Annabel Curry, a pressed lilac blossom in wax paper. He paused and looked at it. It was just a flower but the memories it carried burned him.

He looked around the room. _What do you know, Sarge? I guess I did make something of myself_. He pulled out a ladies handkerchief from the bottom of the box. Sybil had given it to him before they started courting, he had been nicked in a skirmish and hadn’t noticed he had been bleeding until she pointed it out. She had given it to him to stop the bleeding and he couldn’t bring himself to give it back. He gently wrapped the flower in the handkerchief and put it to the side.

He kept searching the chest, hoping Nobby hadn’t nicked what he was looking for. In the very bottom towards one the corners, he found it. He pulled out his mother’s good handkerchief. He lifted it to his nose and smelled it. If he tried he could imagine he could still smell her on it. _Six years in Sektober._ He thought _._ “Wish you could have been here to see all of this.” He whispered. He felt his head twinge and chuckled. “Well, maybe not seen all of it. ”

He unfolded the handkerchief to reveal a small wooden pendant on a leather cord. It wasn’t fine by any stretch of the imagination, a plain carved heart on a wooden disk surrounded by simple scrollwork but it was his.

He pulled out the penknife. He flipped the pendant over and sighed. There wasn’t enough room to even carve their initials let alone a proper inscription. He shook his head, _Bugger it_! Carefully, he carved into the center of the heart. When he was done, he wrapped it back up in the handkerchief. He put the boots back into the chest and placed his other meager belongings into an empty drawer along with the pendant.

Sam walked back into the bedroom and crawled back into bed doing his best not to wake Sybil. He moved to her side of the bed. Propping himself up against the pillows, he looked down at her.

Sam silently studied her. Something was different he thought, he stared at her trying to place it. She was wrapped up to her shoulders with the quilt. She wasn’t wearing any make-up but he had seen her without make-up numerous times. Then it dawned on him, she wasn’t wearing her wig. Her hair was a tangle of short reddish brown curls threaded with red and gold. He reached down and gingerly caressed it. It was soft and smelled of rosemary and lavender. He smiled to himself. He felt a small stirring of pride that he was probably the only man to see her this unguarded.

He had intimately known a handful of women, a drunken one night stand, a few friendly seamstresses that were willing to give a discount to a young lad if he could make it worth their while, and Mavis Touncer. The seamstresses steered clear of him after Mavis, not that he was much interested in anything other than alcohol after Mavis.

Despite having had lovers in the past, he had never really been close to any of them. Although entertaining and educational, seamstresses had a strict policy of never getting too close. The minute he would start feeling anything, they were quick to show him the door. The line was always the same, “You’re a sweet boy, dearie, but I have a career to think of. You are skilled and have a lot going for you. I am sure you will make some girl very happy.” Then a kiss on the cheek followed by a gentle push out the door. After the second time, he took the last part to be his cue to run before the Agony Aunts showed up.

His first and only one nightstand had begun after one such send-off and ended with him climbing out a window to avoid the woman’s husband. She had failed to mention the fact she was married until the man was pounding on the bedroom door. Needless to say that had been his first and last experience of that sort. _How old was I?_ He thought. _I had just turned 30. Gods, I thought I was so old._

He had met Mavis almost four years later at the Mended Drum, he had just been promoted to Captain. At first, she was wonderful, although, they always seemed to be in the bar together. Mavis said he wasn’t any fun when he was sober, She introduced him to the joys of a shot or three after waking up just to take the edge off. She gave him a flask and would tell him to take a sip every time he seemed to be getting too serious.

After a few weeks, they had an understanding and soon the real Mavis started shining through. He didn't seem to mind, though. Mavis was the closest thing he had ever had to love.She was a mean and spiteful drunk but she would pour him a drink and none of that would matter. What was important was she was there.

Of his partners, he had only ever fallen asleep with Mavis. Usually, after they had too much to drink the night before. He’d wake up badly in need of another drink. She would wake up as vicious as ever. _Gods, why am I thinking about Mavis now?_ She was as nice as a rabid badger on most days but she was better than being alone. _Was that why I stayed?_ He thought and shook his head. _Doesn’t matter._ She ran off with Jeremy Zipper from the Day Watch. They had drunkenly married after a Hogswatch Party. Sam found out when he woke up at Fred’s house the next day. Fred had told him that he could have been in Jeremy’s shoes and that he was a very lucky man for having dodged that crossbow bolt.

Despite knowing that was the truth, Sam had pined over her for a year. He believed she had been his only shot at finding someone to grow old with. He had dismissed the idea of ever having a happy, loving marriage with children after he saw what happened to the City and the Night Watch. No, love and happy endings happened to other people. He would have happily settled for a warm body.

Sybil moved her head in her sleep and caught his attention. It had all been so different with her.  She genuinely liked him. She liked spending time with him. They would talk and he would make her laugh. She would stop by the Watch House to make sure they didn’t need anything claiming she still felt responsible for upkeep on the property and they would wind up talking for hours.

After the first couple of visits, he realized that he liked spending time with her. He started stopping by for coffee in the mornings at Scoone Avenue. Once every other week turned into once a week, which soon turned into twice a week, and then three times a week.

They quickly established a pattern, they would have had a nice chat over breakfast and then they would move into the slightly pink drawing room. He would be full and relaxed, and her voice would lull him to sleep. She wasn’t boring, most of her topics of conversation involved things blowing up or the city but her being there was just so comforting. After a few months, he had fallen asleep at her house so often that Sybil gave him a room of his own.

But it wasn’t just that she was comfortable or easy to be around. She made his world brighter and she believed in him. Even before he expressed any interest in her, she believed in him and he wanted to be a better man because of it. He dreaded disappointing her, he could handle anger or even tears but to see that flicker of disappointment in her eyes felt like a knife.

After she had given him a room, both of the Fred and Carrot began pressuring him to ask her to marry him. Then three months ago, he had run into Vetinari on the way to Keel’s grave. He was too drunk to remember their conversation but he did get the feeling that Sybil wasn’t safe so he took it upon himself to watch out for her.

A few days later, they were engaged. That hadn’t been the plan that day, he had arrived unannounced at teatime because he wanted to check up on her. She was happy to see him and after a few minutes of talking about his day she mentioned that she was going to Genua. As the words registered, it felt like he had been stabbed in the heart.

Feeling like he had nothing left to lose, he had coaxed and teased her into giving him a hug. They embraced then he kissed her. He smiled to himself. _And then she kissed me back._ Following the kiss, she had asked him to be her lover and he seriously considered it. However, there was something about being in her arms. He wasn’t a man to do things by halves and he wanted her around for as long as he could manage. So he asked her to marry him, it had been the spur of the moment decision and he had questioned it ever since.

He liked her. If he were brutally honest, she was one of the few people he genuinely liked. He liked spending time with her and when he went long periods of time without her, he missed her. He often wondered if he cared enough for her. The job was always there, it was always driving him and as much as he wanted to spend time with her, the call of his obligation to the city was always louder. Not to mention the obvious fact that she was far too good for him. Everyday, he worried she would realize just what he was and walk away. The fact she hadn’t called off the wedding amazed him.

He looked down at her and focused on her lips. Her kisses were quite nice. Too nice, especially, when kisses would deepen and his hands would start roaming. He wanted to kiss her now. He sighed and settled for placing a light kiss on her forehead instead.

The clock chimed again. He stretched and yawned. He moved down the bed and snuggled next to her under the quilt. It was comforting having her there. He draped an arm around her and soon found himself drifting back to sleep. Sleeping with her was something he could very happily get used to, even though he would never admit to it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you read the version that was posted last night (9/5/2016), my apologies. It was pretty bad. I am hoping that this one is better, although I am not quite happy with it. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.
> 
> If you haven't checked it out yet, go to https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dharmageek to check out the evolution of a Sybil/Sam hug. If Sybil and Sam are one of your OTPs, it is very high on the squee meter.


	3. The Best Part Is the Anticipation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ninety percent of true love is acute, ear-burning embarrassment.” – Wyrd Sisters
> 
> Sam and Sybil talk over the events of the past 36 hours and enjoy some *cough* time together. Honeymoon happy sexy fun time may or may not ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Acknowledgment: Discworld, Sam Vimes and Sybil Ramkin belong to Terry Pratchett. Sir Terry was a wonderful writer and a master of sweet innuendo. I am not and this is probably far more racy than is healthy. 
> 
> Warning: Chapters 1 and 2 were very teen friendly. This chapter is not and has earned this story an E because it is full of extreme lemony goodness (smut). If you are not on board for the good ship Sam Vimes/Sybil Ramkin, disembark now.

Sybil awoke on the edge of the continent-sized bed, where she was greeted by the sound of Sam snoring like a bear. Blearily opening her eyes, she involuntarily smiled at Sam, whom was curled up next to her with his arm slung across her chest. She did her best not to notice that the hand at the end of that arm was cupping her breast. _It's not a bad feeling, it is just_ …She couldn’t finish the thought. _He is my husband so it isn’t inappropriate and it feels comfortable almost natural in a way._

She sighed and moved to stretch. Her arm flailed in the air and she started to roll off the bed. She swore under her breath as she caught herself before tumbling off the bed. After staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, she decided it was best if she just got up and started her day as usual. It was the sensible thing to do after all, and she could talk to Sam about how to proceed after coffee.

He snorted in his sleep and nuzzled closer. “My Sybil” he murmured. Her heart clenched, _Why am I so blasted soft around him?_ She thought. _Maybe I should let him sleep and just go for a walk to think things through._

Sybil did her best not to disturb things but in a soft bed covered in pillows it was hard for a tiny person to go unnoticed. Sybil’s personal gravity combined with the fact that Vimes was a light sleeper made exiting the bed unnoticed nearly impossible but she was giving it a fair go. She had felt pleased with her effort until she landed on the bedroom floor.

A gentle shifting in the bed awakened Vimes. He cracked open his eyes very slightly and saw Sybil sliding out from under his arm.

“Good Morning!” he said loudly, startling her and causing her to tumble off the bed. He chuckled. He looked over the edge of the bed. “Dear?” He said concerned. 

“Oh, Sam. I didn’t want to wake you.” She said as she sat up and motioned towards the doors. “I was just going to check on the dragons.”

“I thought Brenda was taking care of them today.” He said before moving over and patting the bed next to him.

“Yes, of course.” Sybil stood and the closure at the bust of her nightgown gaped exposing her legs and knickers. “It must have slipped my mind.”

“Sorry to have startled you.” Sam said and stared dumbfounded. He was getting an eyeful. “Ah… it looks like you…umm.” This wasn’t what he had been expecting. Her legs were long and curvy. Her thighs were thick and strong from years of working in the dragon pens, his mouth went dry at the thought of touching them or better yet having them wrapped around him.

Sybil looked down and with a nervous laugh quickly adjusted the wrap. She grabbed the silk robe that was next to the bed and wrapped that around her as well. “Good Morning.” She said brightly and with a bit more confidence than she was feeling.

He sat up so he could look at her. The robe covered everything but it also hugged everything. His face broke into a goofy grin like he had never seen a girl before. _She was a bleeding fertility goddess._ He knew about her bosom, one couldn’t hide such a thing. It was his first time really seeing the rest of her figure. She usually wore bulky armor or oversized dresses in the dragon pens and you could transform a lot with bustles, skirts, and corsets.

It wasn’t as pronounced as it was in the corset but she definitely had a waist and wide lovely round hips. He involuntarily licked his lips. “Good Morning.” He repeated not knowing what else to say. “Your…night dress is..umm.” He said, kicking himself for fumbling and blushing like a teenager at 43. _Get it together, Vimes. It is just Sybil._

It was Sybil’s turn to blush. “Oh, this.” She indicated what she was wearing. “It was a wedding present, I don’t usually.”

He nodded and the two sat quietly on the bed. Sam was the first to the break the silence. “I’m sorry about last night.”

She waved her hand as if it was nothing. “It’s alright, there was quite a lot of excitement yesterday.”

“That is an understatement.” He looked at her “But that isn’t exactly what I meant, I am sorry about the wedding and especially, the reception...”

“You don’t ….” Sybil started before Vimes cut her off.

“I want to.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I am very sorry, Sybil. I wish I could take it back.” He paused for a second and flustered realizing what he had said. “Not the wedding part, just all the rest. I want to be married to you.” He gazed at her for a moment in a way that made Sybil’s heart melt and entire body tingle.

She bit her lip as she realized she really wanted Sam kiss right now. She blushed and tried to change the subject. “How is your side?”

“Better.” Sam smirked. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?” She replied. Vimes noticed she had gone beyond coloring slightly, she was bright pink from her cheeks all the way down the length of her neck and down past the top of her robe. He had never realized that her blushes went down so far and wondered where exactly they stopped.

Sybil was very aware that Sam was still staring at her. “Just a bit nervous, I suppose.” She continued trying not to stammer, she looked about the room trying to find something else to talk about. “You know, we don’t have to share a room if you don’t want. I mean most couples on Scoone Avenue…”

He was smiling now, “I slept fine, just fine.”

“Oh, that’s good then. Should I go see about..” Sybil moved to get up and Vimes pulled her back to the bed. “I should probably …”

“Stay.” he said gently.

She let out a timid little laugh in reply.

“What are you afraid of Sybil? You weren’t this nervous around the bloody dragon. I won’t devour you.” Which he regretted instantly as his mind turned to kissing a certain place that he had learned about in an encounter with a seamstress years ago. He tried not to notice that he was probably turning bright red himself. “I mean…”

Sybil looked away, she feeling bashful but also excited.

Sam started laughing and ran his hand through his hair. “Gods, if I knew being in love meant reverting to this I would have…” He stopped as soon as the words registered. She looked at him in shock for a moment, then he leaned forward and kissed her. Overwhelmed, she stiffened for a moment.

Thinking she might be too shy to go on, he broke the kiss and stroked her cheek. “We don’t have to do anything. We can take our time and whenever you’re ready.” He searched her expression for some sign on how to proceed. She smiled.

He smiled sheepishly at her. “How about a cuddle?”

She wanted more than just a cuddle but she was overcome by her feelings, which made her feel woozy and out of control. “That would be nice.” She said and they both lay back in the bed. She wrapped her arms around him and sighed happily.

Sam nuzzled her neck and wrapped his arms around her. His hands ran up and down her body pausing on her bottom, it was soft and round with a firm layer of muscle underneath. He gave it a tentative squeeze pulling her closer. She giggled and kissed him causing him to be bolder. His hands started squeezing and massaging her ample arse.

He broke the kiss and moaned quietly as his erection rubbed against her thigh. “Gods, Sybil. You have no idea what you do to me.” She took the opportunity to kiss up his neck and behind his ear. He took in a sharp intake of breath and she tentatively nipped at the back of his neck causing him to growl. He caught her hand to pin her to the bed but noticed the ring.

He pulled back and gazed at her. “Stay there.” He said and ran to the dressing room. He went to the drawer and pulled out the handkerchief with the pendant. After closing the drawer, he returned to the room.

Sybil was lounging against the pillows and glanced at him nervously. “Did I do something wrong?”

Sam was taken aback. “No, dear. Not at all.” He smiled at her and sat next to her. “May I have Fred’s ring back?

She warily handed him the ring and he placed it on the bedside table. He gazed at her for a moment and gave her a nervous smile. “You know, I am not one for words.” He took her hand. “I know yesterday was…” He grimaced. “Yesterday was a disaster, and most of that was my fault.” Sybil smiled at him with love in her eyes. “I have always believed some things should be private. No one needs to know what we promise each other.” He unwrapped the pendant and handed it to her.

“This belonged to my father’s mother, my grandfather was a copper and couldn’t afford a ring so he carved it for her.” He took a deep breath. “I can’t promise to be a good husband. But I can promise to protect you and care for you. And as part of that, I promise to never drink again as long as we are married.”

“Sam. You don’t...” Sybil started but he kissed her.

He broke the kiss and stroked her cheek. “Let me finish. One is too many, I know that now and I will do what I have to keep that promise. I will go to meetings. I will drink milk with Carrot.” He laughed. “Hell, I will even sing those stupid hymns if it works. Let me give you this at least. You have given me so much.” Sybil smiled at him with tears in her eyes.

He handed her the pendant and she turned it over in her hands. “177, that was your badge number wasn’t it?” She asked gently as she traced the heart with her finger. He looked at her sheepishly and nodded. “It’s perfect.” She said as she wiped away a tear. She slipped the chord over her head and adjusted the length.

He admired her for a moment. _The woman owns enough diamonds to encrust Detritus and she makes a wooden disk look like the crown jewels._ He grinned at her. “It suits you.”, was all he could think to say.

Sybil placed her hands on either side of Sam’s face and kissed him firmly. He smiled and leaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around her. After a few minutes, he had expected her to pull back but she kept kissing him. She eased back on to the bed and pulled him down with her. He deepened the kiss and she moaned into his mouth.

She reached between them and unfastened her robe. Her hands moved to his waist and around to his back. She ran her hands up and down his back. Their kisses were becoming frenzied. Sam’s bare chest grazed the bare skin at the top of her nightgown. He let out a low growl, he felt like he was on fire. He grabbed the collar of the robe and worked it down her shoulders and off her arms.

He slid his hands over her bare arms and Sybil let out a happy sigh arching off the bed. _Gods, I need him to touch me everywhere._ Every kiss, every touch sent sparks down her spine. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer arching her body up to press herself against him.

Sam threaded his arms under her holding her against him. The bottom of her nightdress had fallen open and he reveled in the feeling the warmth of her soft skin against him. He moved his leg to straddle her and his leg hung in the air. He broke the kiss and she whimpered. He smiled at her. “Come here.” He growled and directed her towards the middle of the bed.

They exchanged gentle kisses as he settled her against the pillows. He pulled back and looked at her. “Do you want to keep going?” He asked, partially to make sure she was still agreeable and partially for his own ego.

“Yes, please.” She said breathlessly.

His cock twitched as he realized how excited she was. Her eyes were dark. She was biting her lips, which were bruised from the kissing. Her cheeks were flushed and her chest was heaving.

He traced her face with his hand and followed the path of his fingers with kisses. He kissed down her face and back up her jaw line. When he reached her ear, he grazed it with his teeth. “Sam” she gasped and closed her eyes letting her head fall back.

Sam smirked. He began kissing and nibbling down her neck and across her collarbone. His hand dropped down to where her nightgown was open and stroked her belly. He kissed his way down to the bow on her nightdress. He looked up at her. “May I?” He asked and she nodded enthusiastically. “Hmmm?” He replied.

“Yes.” She whimpered.

He chuckled. “Anything for you.” He slowly untied the closure, he was so lost to passion that he didn’t get the metaphor for until a few days later. As the ribbon released, the nightdress fell open like a robe. He pushed it apart. “Beautiful”, he whispered and ghosted his hands over her breasts, causing her to make a sharp intake of breath. He smiled at her reaction. He cupped her breasts and began kneading them appreciating their size and weight.

Sam bent down and kissed between her breasts. Sybil gasped as she felt the roughness of his beard against her breasts as he nuzzled and kissed between them. She made little mewling sounds as he kissed everywhere but the points that wanted the most attention. She threaded her fingers through is hair and whimpered. He finally gave in and licked one nipple and then the other. She arched off the bed and moaned. He divided his attention licking and sucking each in turn.  Unconsciously squeezing her thighs together and rocking her hips, she was lost to a world of feeling,.

Sam pressed her breasts together and let his hand drop down between her thighs. His breath caught as he felt how wet she was through her knickers. He flicked his tongue between her nipples before taking them both into his mouth.

Sybil moaned and pulled at his hair. “Sam!” Her head lulled back against the pillows. He cupped her through her knickers applying light pressure and her hips bucked in response. He chuckled.

She twisted and writhed, “Sam! Oh, gods!”. She screamed his name over and over again as she climaxed under his ministrations.

He propped himself up and gently ran his hands over her as she recovered. “How are you feeling?” He asked with a smirk.

She was still woozy. “Good” was all she could manage to say.

“Good” he replied and kissed down her stomach to the edge of her knickers. He placed a line of kisses at the band and began massaging her hips. “Are you up for more?” He asked with a wolfish grin. He was enjoying this too much.

She hadn’t fully recovered but managed a breathy “Yes”.

Sam hooked his thumbs into the top of her knickers and slid them down her legs. He tossed them over the side of the bed and ran his hands up her legs. His ran his hands back down on the inside of her legs. Sybil spread her legs in response and whimpered slightly. Starting at the inside of her ankle he kissed his way up to her thighs. He paused at the inside of her thigh where he nibbled gently causing her squirm. He was torn, he wanted to bury himself in her but every whimper and sigh felt better than whiskey.  The anticipation was killing him but it was addicting. He knew wasn’t a young man so he was only going to get one ride. He smiled to himself, he was going to make it a good one for her.

He paused and looked up at her. “May I?” He asked.

Sybil nodded enthusiastically and he chuckled. She was so wet already. He experimentally traced her lower lips with fingers and then his tongue. She gasped and started rocking her hips again. He delicately started licking her clit and she moaned in response. He started licking and sucking with more vigor and gently slid a finger into her. She froze for a second. “Sybil?” he asked little uncertain. She let out a little moan and he felt her quiver around him.

He lavished her clit with attention and gently inserted another digit. He started moving his fingers inside her. After a few moments, her hips began rocking in time with him. Her breathing intensified and she tensed. Sam continued moving his fingers but moved his attentions back to kissing the inside of her thigh for a moment before returning to lap her clit more gently.

Her legs began to shake. “Oh, My!” She cried and grasped at the bedding on either side of her. She began thrashing wildly and started calling his name over and over again. Still keeping pace with his fingers, Sam lifted his head and watched her as she climaxed. She was smiling, radiant and wild. _Gods, she is beautiful._ He thought.

As she quieted, he rested his head on her belly for a moment. He felt drunk and he was so hard it hurt to move. He kissed his way up her body. Her hands were on his hips and working his pants off. He groaned as his erection sprung free. 

She blushed slightly and suppressed a giggle, she stared as if it were some beautiful and strange mythical creature. Sam shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. He helped her take his drawers off the rest of the way. His discomfort didn’t last long and he swooned as she tentatively ran her fingers down his shaft. “Gods, Sybil.” He growled.

She looked up at him and gave him an impish smile. Reaching up, she pulled his face down to her and kissed him. She broke the kiss and looked at him with such love and passion he felt mesmerized. “Please.” She whispered. “Please, Sam.”

His mouth went dry and he just nodded dumbly. She spread her legs further apart and helped guide him to her entrance. He supported himself on his arms and slowly entered. Her breath caught as he moved into her and gently stretched her. “Gods, Sybil.” He growled and stilled inside her, pausing to make sure she was alright.

She looked up at him and pulled him down to her again, pressing her forehead against his. Experimentally, she contracted around him. “Sybil” he pleaded and struggled to keep control.

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close so he collapsed on top of her. She wrapped her legs around him and let out a moan as his weight pressed against her clit.

Sam reveled in her softness and strength. He slowly began to move.

Sybil kissed his neck and shoulders. As Sam established his rhythm, she slowly started to move with him. She opened her mouth and he covered it with a kiss, muffling her cries. Her lips and tongue felt like ice and his felt like fire.

Sybil felt electrified, every nerve ending was vibrating and tingling. She felt the coiling sensation at her core building again, she broke her kiss with Sam and cried out his name as she shattered beneath him.

Sam's tenuous control was broken. His pace quickened and he pushed deeper, it didn’t take much for him to be completely undone. He roared his release and felt as if he were being consumed by fire. He collapsed on top of her, blissfully exhausted. He rested for a few moments before rolling off back on to the bed.

Sybil’s eyes fluttered open to see a smiling Sam looking down at her. He was grinning like a schoolboy, a very naughty and proud schoolboy. He grasped her hand and kissed it.

She giggled and smiled back at him, all bright eyes and rosy cheeks. “Thank you.” 

_Class for miles_ , he thought to himself and grinned wider. “It was my pleasure.” He kissed her lips and snuggled next to her. Soon they both drifted off to sleep.

An hour later, Sam woke up with his head on Sybil’s bosom. The world around him was soft and warm. He couldn’t help smiling, in fact, he was pretty sure he had fallen asleep with a smile on his face.

He propped himself up and traced Sybil’s face with his fingertip. He kissed her temple and whispered. “I love you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that just happened *blushes*. That was fun but I am rusty so please forgive me if it was too silly or not sexy in a sexy fun time sort of way. If you liked this story, it links to Right of First Refusal and She asked, He asked. 
> 
> Comments and suggestions are always welcome. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as just a fun side piece and expanded into its own thing. If you are reading Right of First Refusal, the events of this story happen during chapter 11. 
> 
> As always, feedback, comments, and discussion are welcome. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.


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